


My Hands and Heart Need Warming

by ToBebbanburg



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: And some more Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, it's a bit back and forwards, no explicit mentions of past abuse but its very much implicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24996745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBebbanburg/pseuds/ToBebbanburg
Summary: Sihtric and Finan's relationship has slowly been growing and changing over the years, but the night Sihtric fakes his betrayal of Uhtred throws it all into jeopardy. When their plan is revealed to have been nothing but a show to fool the Danes, Finan is less willing than Sihtric to pick up where they left off...
Relationships: Finan/Sihtric (The Last Kingdom)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62
Collections: The Last Kingdom Fanfic Fest





	My Hands and Heart Need Warming

**Author's Note:**

> Part of TLK Fanfic Fest on tumblr, for the prompt: Finan/Sihtric, that first night after Finan knows Sihtric didn't really abandon them.

The night Sihtric rejoined Uhtred and his men after his supposed betrayal he was welcomed back with open arms. He could tell everyone was relieved he had not truly abandoned them, and Uhtred and Osferth immediately went back to treating him as they had before. There was no hurt, no confusion, only relief and joy at a plan well executed.

Finan was different. He had been relieved, of course, when Sihtric had surprised them, insisting he had known all along with his usual mix of bravado and humour. He had embraced Sihtric tightly and for a few blissful moments it seemed like everything could return to normal, but as day turned into night and they made their escape from the Danish camp, Sihtric could tell that Finan was less than happy. The Irishman had barely spoken a word to him, and refused to make eye contact. Granted, it was hard to carry a conversation whilst rowing for your lives but even when they pulled the boat onto a shallow bank in order to rest for the night, Finan ignored him still.

He could be tired, or anxious, or any number of things due to their hasty flight back to Coccham, but Sihtric could tell it was more than that. Finan was upset at him, and Sihtric couldn’t rightly blame him. He and Finan had been close, bound by battle and blood, and bar Uhtred they had been each other’s closest companions these last years. But now Finan was looking at him in a way he hadn’t in a long time, in a way that reminded Sihtric of when he had first met the Irishman. Finan had viewed him with suspicion for weeks, certain he had been set to betray Uhtred as soon as they reached Dunholm. All that had changed, however, the day they had taken the keep.

_Sihtric knew Finan didn’t like him. The Irishman had told him as much, going so far as to threaten him that if he ever betrayed Uhtred, Finan would make him regret it. Slowly. And with pleasure. Sihtric had bristled at that: he’d been loyal to Uhtred for a year, a whole year when his lord had been living as a slave, and he had dutifully waited for his return. Uhtred trusted him still, but that apparently wasn’t enough for Finan._

_He did not quite know why, but Sihtric felt the need to prove himself to the other man. At Dunholm, he promised himself, at Dunholm he would fight like he’d never fought before, he’d cut down his father’s men and take the fortress for Uhtred. And then, then Finan would see._

_He had not expected how being back at Dunholm would break him. He fought bravely, true, but the moment the battle-haze cleared and night fell he found he could no longer stand to remain in the keep. Every shadow seemed to hide Kjartan’s spirit, every corner a reminder of the cruelties he had suffered growing up. The world spun around him, and it was too much; he needed to escape. The victory celebrations had died down to just a handful of men still drunkenly singing and swaying together, and no one noticed him pick up his single blanket and slip out through the gates. Or so he thought._

_He made it down the path that lead to the fortress and into the woods where he paused, his heart pounding and his vision blurring. He was safe. Kjartan was dead and there was nothing in Dunholm but ghosts. He was fine. Now that he was out of the keep he almost laughed at the claustrophobic sense of fear that had enveloped him earlier, but he could not quite bring himself to return. Not just yet. He settled himself against a tree and wrapped his blanket around himself, though was interrupted from his peace almost immediately by a voice._

_“Running away?”_

_Finan. Sihtric scrambled upright, his blanket falling away, and came face to face with the Irishman._

_“I wasn’t, I just-”_

_“You just thought you’d wait around until everyone was asleep then slip away? Disappointed your father didn’t slaughter us all?” Finan had his knife out, and slowly raised it so it was inches from Sihtric’s throat. “I was almost prepared to like you.” He said with a twisted smile._

_“I’m not running away, I swear.” Sihtric pleaded. “If I were running away, why would I stop here, still in view of the keep?” he gestured over at the walls of Dunholm, and was relieved to see hesitation creep across Finan’s face._

_“Why leave at all then?” the Irishman asked, still suspicious._

_“I, I couldn’t stay there. Not now, maybe not ever I don’t know but I can’t.” Sihtric was aware he was babbling but couldn’t stop himself. “You don’t understand, my father, he-” he paused, and took a breath, forcing himself to slow down and straighten up. “He was not as a father should be. I was not treated as a son, or even as a person at all. I was-”_

_“A slave.” Finan finished for him, lowering his knife. There was something close to understanding in his eyes._

_“Ever since I left here, I have had dreams, nightmares, about this place. I fear such dreams would only be worse if I were to sleep inside those walls, and I do not wish to make a fool of myself in front of the men.”_

_“You wouldn’t.” Finan said gruffly. “You think I sleep well at night? You think Uhtred does? After everything we’ve been through there’s no way that we could ever truly be at peace again. No one can judge you for being haunted by your past. And if they do, I’ll kill them.” Finan grinned as he said the last bit, a glimmer of madness in his eyes, and Sihtric marvelled at how quickly the man’s opinion of him had changed. “Now come on, get your arse back inside, or people will talk.”_

_Sihtric looked at the shadow of Dunholm, then back at Finan._

_“You can go. I shall stay here. And you have my word that I won’t desert you.” He said. He knew there was no way he would be sleeping in the keep tonight._

_Finan sighed. “As you wish.” He sheathed his dagger and walked back up the path without a second glance._

_Sihtric watched him leave, then sat back down against his tree. He pulled his blanket over his shoulders and tried to find a position that was comfy enough to fall asleep in. The ground was hard and unforgiving, but it was better than in there. He had just found a passable position when he heard approaching footsteps, and looked up to see Finan had come back, his arms full of furs. He laughed at the confused look on Sihtric’s face._

_“Well I can’t exactly leave you here alone all night, can I?” he said, sitting himself next to Sihtric and handing him a heavy fur. “Still need to keep an eye on you.” He winked at Sihtric before getting under his own furs, and said no more on the matter. Sihtric would never admit it, but he was pleased of the company, and managed to fall asleep with relative ease with the Irishman snoring softly beside him._

There had been a definite shift in their relationship that night, from reluctant companions to something approaching friends. Finan no longer watched Sihtric intently for any signs of betrayal, and when the nightmares came again, for they never stayed away for long, it was Finan who comforted Sihtric, Finan who held him in his arms until the tension left his body and he felt safe and present again. They became brothers in battle, fighting side by side, and that was a bond that was as deep as blood. They supported each other, trusted each other without hesitation, and over time their relationship changed and grew into something more.

There had been something about the Irishman that he had been drawn to when they had first met: his ferociousness in battle, perhaps, or his razor sharp wit. Maybe it was the way his eyes smiled in a way that hid the hardship he had endured, or the way he had held a man he barely knew and only barely trusted to keep the nightmares away. Sihtric thought he had always been a little bit in love with Finan, but as the two grew closer over the years he began to wonder if Finan was slowly coming to mirror his feelings.

It was the way he always checked Sihtric was safe after a battle, before even Uhtred. The way his eyes would meet Sihtric’s after he told a joke, as if hoping for his approval, and his approval alone. It was the way he embraced Sihtric for longer than usual, his arms tighter around Sihtric’s body than they had ever been before. They had been moving towards something, Sihtric knew it, but he had managed to ruin it all, and judging by the look on Finan’s face he was not sure if he’d be able to get it back. He felt numb as he watched Finan mark out a spot on the ground to sleep on well away from him, and wondered what he had to do, what he had to say to get the other man to talk to him again.

“Finan, don’t get comfy, I need you to scout out the perimeter.” Uhtred called out from his own spot on the boat with Skade.

Finan grumbled, but stood up.

“And take Sihtric with you.”

“Lord-” Finan started to protest even as Sihtric stood up, but Uhtred silenced him.

“Finan! Do not test me.”

Finan looked as though he were about to argue some more, but decided instead to walk off into the woods without waiting for Sihtric. He was walking fast, faster than he had any need to, and Sihtric almost had to jog to catch up to him. He didn’t know what to say when he fell into step besides the other man, so they walked in uncomfortable silence until Sihtric couldn’t take it any more.

“Finan, please.” He started, moving to stand in front of him to force him to a stop. “Please let me explain.”

“There’s no need, I understand perfectly. You had a plan, and didn’t feel like you should tell me about it.” Finan’s voice was incredibly bitter, and Sihtric hurt to be addressed in such a way.

“I thought Uhtred would tell you.”

“It shouldn’t have been Uhtred’s responsibility to tell me!” Finan burst out. “I thought we trusted each other. I would have lain down my life for you, but you let me believe that you’d betrayed us. Do you have any idea what that was like for me?” Finan was shouting now, his eyes wild as he rounded on Sihtric. Sihtric felt as though his stomach had dropped away from him and left him empty inside, as he had felt that night when he had staged his supposed betrayal.

_Sihtric hated the plan. It was an excellent plan, he had to admit, but it hurt every bone in his body to spit at Uhtred, to look at him in disgust. He couldn’t bear the way Uhtred glared at him, even though it was all an act, and he liked even less the approving looks Dagfinn and the other Danes gave him. But he endured it._

_He had not expected for Finan to come between them. He had hoped Finan, as loyal to Uhtred as he himself was, would either side with his lord or stay out of the mess altogether. It would have been easier that way. But Finan had never been in the habit of making things easy._

_“He’ll calm down, I know he will. Don’t do this.” Finan had pleaded with him after Uhtred had stormed out of the hall. It had taken all of Sihtric’s self-restraint then not to give into the temptation to tell Finan everything: someone was always listening, and he couldn’t risk that someone reporting back to the Danes._

_“Uhtred swore to kill me in front of all his men. I would not risk my life on the slight hope he may go back on his word. And I will not risk my life by tying myself to a man who is cursed.” He said instead. They were committed to this path now, and he could not break from it. To do so was to ruin everything._

_“We can lift the curse some other way. We’ll find a priest, or one of your sorcerers or something. Anything. Just don’t go.” Finan was desperate, his hand reaching out to catch Sihtric’s wrist. Whatever had been slowly growing between the two of them the past months, maturing into something neither of them had yet acknowledged to the other was in danger of breaking, and Sihtric did not want to be there to watch it all fall._

_“I have to.” Sihtric said quietly. It was the closet thing to the truth he could say. He turned and walked away before Finan could make things more difficult, but the Irishman persisted nonetheless._

_“Sihtric!” He shouted at his back, and Sihtric couldn’t help but turn around to face him, one hand resting on the door ready to push it open and escape._

_“Please.” Finan said quietly, and the fires that lit the room were reflecting off the tears forming in his eyes. “Please.” He repeated. “I... I thought you were beginning to love me. As I loved you. If ever that were true, or could be true, I beg you. Don’t do this.”_

_Sihtric left. If he stayed any longer his resolve would have weakened and it would all have been for nothing. As he sat outside in the cold waiting for the men inside the hall to retreat to their beds, Sihtric felt his heart being torn into a thousand pieces. And he wept._

“Why didn’t you say?” Finan’s voice brought him back to the present. “I laid myself open to you, I _cried_ for you and you said nothing.”

“I couldn’t. Someone would have heard.” Sihtric tried to explain.

“And what, you couldn’t leave me a message? Write me a note? Given me something so I didn’t have to spend these last weeks in torment thinking that the man I loved has betrayed me?”

“Loved?” Sihtric knew there were bigger issues here, but he could only focus on the past tense.

“I tried to force myself to hate you. In case we faced each other on opposite sides of the battlefield. But I couldn't do it.” Finan wasn’t shouting anymore. Instead his voice was filled with so much hurt that any restraint Sihtric had crumbled. He went to Finan and wrapped him in his arms, the other man stiffening for a second before returning the embrace and burying his head in Sihtric’s shoulder.

“It broke my heart to leave you.” Sihtric mumbled as he clutched Finan tighter. “And I did not think- I had hoped Uhtred would tell you. I’m sorry. I cannot take back what I did. I can only apologise. I did not think it would have hurt you so bad but that… that was foolish of me. And I will forever regret it.”

Finan made a nondescript noise at that, and Sihtric pressed on.

“The one thought that kept me going during my time with the Danes was the thought of returning back to you. I would be yours, if you would still have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you you idiot.” Finan pulled away, and there were tears in his eyes yet again. He scrubbed them away with the back of his hand before they could fall and freeze on his face. “But you will have to make it up to me.”

“Anything.” Sihtric promised, and meant it.

“Well you can clean my armour from now on for a start. Take over my cooking duties. And promise never to do anything like this again.” Finan listed off his demands, a hint of his usual smile back on his face. Sihtric had missed that smile like he missed the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter.

“Anything else?” He asked, hardly daring to believe his fortune. Finan’s smile grew.

“You can shut up and kiss me.”

The moment Finan’s lips touched his was the moment everything fell into place. Sihtric tried to pour all of his heart into the kiss, tried to convey just how sorry he was and how he glad he was Finan had forgiven him. The kiss lasted for what simultaneously felt like forever and no time at all, and Sihtric missed the feeling of Finan’s mouth against his as soon as they parted.

They took their time scouting out the rest of the surrounding area, taking it in turns to pull each other in for messy and desperate kisses, the unspoken urge for something more lingering in the air. It was not the time nor the place for that though, and so they satisfied themselves with the fact that they were together, and alive. Sihtric learnt that Finan liked it when he used his teeth to nip at his lips, and that he especially liked it when Sihtric got carried away and pushed him right up against a tree in his attempts to kiss him harder, deeper.

He could never forget how he had treated Finan, how he had made him feel, but that night Sihtric swore that he would spend the rest of his waking days making it up to him. The man he loved.

_Sihtric could pinpoint the exact moment he had truly fallen in love with Finan. It had been a night not unlike this one, with the wind biting cold and the ground covered in a layer of snow. They had been making their way through the countryside, though were better provisioned than they were now and had a series of tents and awnings to keep the elements at least partially at bay. Sihtric had shared Finan’s tent, and had been amused at the way the Irishman tossed and turned and swore rather than falling asleep._

_“Most men have their nightmares whilst they sleep, not whilst they’re still awake.” Sihtric joked. He could joke about such things now: it helped make them a little less real, a little less devastating._

_“It’s too damned cold to sleep.” Finan muttered. He turned over in his furs to face Sihtric, though he was so wrapped up in cloaks and blankets all that was visible were his eyes. “I hate the cold.”_

_Sihtric remembered that the slave ship Finan and Uhtred had been on had wintered in Islond, with the men given little more than a thin blanket as warmth, and realised that the freezing cold was likely making Finan relive those terrible memories in much the same way as an unexpected touch or the harsh bark of a dog brought him back to his time in Dunholm._

_“You can have my cloak.” Sihtric offered. He was used to the cold, and it did not hold any pain for him as it did for Finan._

_“And have you freeze? I don’t think so. I’ve seen men lie down to rest in the frost and never awaken, and would not have you as one of them.” Finan pulled his cloak away from his face in order to speak more clearly, and Sihtric’s heart jumped at the thought that Finan would sooner be uncomfortable and unable to sleep than have Sihtric give up his own bit of warmth._

_“We can share.” Sihtric suggested instead, shifting about in his own furs to unbuckle his cloak and spread it out so it would mostly cover both of them if they laid next to each other._

_“Alright.” Finan agreed, lifting just the edge of his blankets up enough for Sihtric to move over, overlapping their furs and placing his cloak on top of their bundle._

_There were several layers of clothes and armour between them, but Sihtric still pressed himself against Finan’s back and wrapped his arms around the other man in an attempt to warm him up. It was a similar position to one they had fallen asleep in many times, but before now it had always been Finan the one covering Sihtric, holding him tightly as he calmed him down from the dreadful memories of Kjartan._

_Sihtric closed his eyes, pleased that Finan at last had stilled, but was stopped from giving into sleep by the other man suddenly deciding to fumble about under the covers. Finan’s clumsy gloved hands were trying to take a hold of one of his own, and when he finally held one of Sihtric’s hands in his he manoeuvred him so that his hand lay on the hilt of Finan’s dagger._

_“If you should freeze and die in the night, I want you to at least go to Valhalla.” Finan said, his voice soft, and tinted with an emotion Sihtric couldn’t quite make out._

_It was that moment, that one gesture from a man who didn’t accept Sihtric’s faith but who cared enough about him to respect his beliefs that made him truly fall for Finan._

They had lain together in such a fashion every freezing night since, and each time Sihtric had fallen asleep tormented by the unspoken feelings he had for the other man, and promised himself that next time would be the time he told him the truth. It had never seemed the right moment though, or perhaps he had simply never worked up the courage, but that night as they made their way back to the camp on the banks of the river Sihtric had no trouble at all.

“I love you.” He whispered in Finan’s ear as he wrapped himself around the Irishman as they lay down, quietly enough so that none of the other men would hear.

Finan didn’t reply- he couldn’t, not without turning around or speaking loud enough for others to hear, but he reached for Sihtric’s hand and silently brought it up to his lips to kiss. He then carefully wrapped Sihtric’s fingers around the hilt of his dagger, as he had done many times before, and Sihtric wondered if perhaps Finan had been telling him he loved him all this time.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the back of Finan’s cloak, and fell asleep to dream of their future.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a toughy 1) because I've never written from Sihtric's POV before and 2) this is my first time trying something new with regards to flashbacks and structure. Who knows if it's worked.


End file.
